Harry Potter and the Peculiar Mash Up
by Androidxs
Summary: Hades Lord of the Dead and I,  Androidxs,  have teamed up to bring you a series of short stories about the magical world of Harry Potter.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! **

**HadesLordoftheDead and I (Androidxs) have teamed up to bring you a series of short stories about the magical world of Harry Potter. We have made three lists, one composed of names, one with events, and one with places (a bit like consequences really!) and will be selecting random combinations by pulling them out of HadesLordoftheDead's top hat. We hope you enjoy them and give you the full lists of things so you can amuse yourself in the meantime.**

**Androidxs x **

**HLotD B-D**

People

Neville Longbottom

Voldemort

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Hagrid

Dudley Dursley

Dumbledore

Aragog

Percy Weasley

Arabella Figg

Wendelin the Weird

Madame Pomfrey

Rita Skeeter

Places

Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions

St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

The Room of Requirement

The Chamber of Secrets

The Shreiking Shack

The Attic at The Burrow

The Cupboard Under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey

Honeydukes

The Prefect's Bathroom

Azkaban

Hagrid's Hut

Platform Nine and Three Quarters

Events

Pregnant

Baby sitting

Death

Fire

Magic Aesthetic Spell Mishap

Balloon Phobia

Love at First Sight

Time Turner Mishap

One night stand

Amnesia

Explosion

Giant Squid


	2. Voldemort and the Severe Balloon Phobia

**Voldemort – St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries – Balloon Phobia – Androidxs**

"That's it, Voldy." Coerced Augustus Pye, newly qualified Healer at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He stood with a photograph of a large red balloon in his hand, trying to persuade the patient to take a glimpse at it. Voldemort sat with the slits of his eyes clenched shut, refusing to open them. His head was titled towards the ceiling as he sat humming, desperate not to hear the word that he detested so much. He placed his long, bony fingers in his ears, wanting to make his point absolutely clear. He would not look at the picture. Even just thinking about it made him shudder. Rocking back and forth to comfort himself, he tried to take his mind off of what was happening around him. Mudbloods, he thought, torturing and killing the lot of them. Smiling at his thoughts he opened his eyes a glimpse to see a blonde man, much younger than himself, trying to grab the photo out of Healer Pye's hands.

"But I want to sign it, you see!" Shouted the young man, waving a quill furiously in one hand, jabbing it towards the photo.

"No, Gilderoy," Pye began, "That isn't a photo of your, or even a photo for you. You need to share." Looking disheartened, the man named Gilderoy continued to jab his quill at the picture. After several more jabs, he made a particularly violent movement which resulted in the ink in the quill splattering over the picture. Dismayed, Healer Pye relinquished his grip upon the photo, giving it to the young man. "Here." He said, dismissively, letting the pleased faced Gilderoy take it to his bed on the other side of the room. Augustus sat down and sighed a heavy sigh looking at Voldemort, who looked back at him.

"Well?" Voldemort asked, harshly.

"Balloon." Augustus said, giving up. Voldemort let out a shrill, high pitched squeal and burst into tears. Calming draught, Augustus said now annoyed at losing his temper at Voldemort's rudeness, he wasn't well and shouldn't expect better. Augustus stood up and jogged across the room, where he asked a younger subordinate to fetch him the draught. The brown haired boy nodded and left through the locked door, muttering the word, "Alohamora." to open it. Within seconds, the boy returned with a goblet of steaming clear liquid. He handed it to Healer Pye who thanked him and returned to Voldemort's side, who was now rocking back and forth next to the chair he was previously sat upon. "Here," Pye said, edging the goblet towards Voldemort's slit mouth, "this will help." He added, trying to persuade Voldemort to drink it. After sniffing the potion and looking suspiciously around the room, he chose to and took, at first, a small sip, followed by a much larger gulp. Within minutes, he was calmed down back to his normal sneering state. "Feeling better?" Healer Pye asked, hoisting Voldemort off of the floor and over to his bed. Voldemort nodded, his red eyes glowing.

"Tomorrow," Voldemort began, "nothing will stop me." Augustus smiled.

"That's the attitude!" He said, while secretly thinking that there was no hope even if Merlin himself were here to aid him. Augustus pulled the curtains around Voldemort, who much preferred his privacy and left, promising to return later with more calming draught.

After he left, Voldemort remained lying in bed. His bald hat was cushioned by the pillow and he began to think of the peculiar state he was in. All the other patients in the ward, the Longbottoms and Gilderoy were here as a result of his power yet now he was too scared to take on the world for fear of those latex balls filled with gas acting as his hubris. They could be his downfall. This long stay on the Janus Thickey Ward would be worth it, he argued, when he could finally become master of death, and defeat Harry Potter.


	3. Harry Potter and the Guardian Spider

_Aragog – the cupboard under the stairs – amnesia._

_HLotD – So I know that it might not fit in strictly with the HP canon, but just use your imagination. Or assume it's an AU. Your choice!_

Harry Potter and the Not-so-Giant Guardian Spider

It was a long time ago. So long ago I find it difficult to remember everything. Time has definitely dimmed certain details which once seemed so clear. But the memories surged back earlier tonight, when I realised exactly who it was in the forest; dark hair, round glasses – and the scar. _Those _details remained the same.

Harry Potter. So that was his name. Hagrid had not told me. But I see now that this "friend of Hagrid's" was indeed that baby boy I had been told to guard so many years ago. An important task; Hagrid had even gone so far as to perform a shrinking spell on me! He would never have considered such a thing unless the situation were truly dire; in his eyes, the bigger the better. And of course, he was not strictly allowed to do magic.

I still recall the female human's shriek when I emerged from beneath the covers. When the male arrived she feigned amnesia, said it was the sight of the boy which had caused her fall. These people were clearly to be avoided. They spoke scorningly of magic.

Withdrawing to the darkness of the cupboard under the stairs, coming out only for food, I watched the boy turn from baby to toddler. I do not know if he was aware of my presence; I suppose I never will.

He would not remember me anyway, for nearly ten years has passed. Ten years since Hagrid came for me, since I last saw the boy with the lightning scar. The boy who I had once striven so hard to watch over.

Since this realisation that the baby from long ago, and the teenager of today are both one and the same, I have warned my family away from him. I doubt they listen, but I will at least warn Hagrid; warn him not to send the boy into the forest. My family and I are not the only dangers in here….


	4. Madam Pomfrey and the Time Turner Mishap

**Madam Pomfrey – Prefect's Bathroom – Time Turner Mishap – Androidxs**

**Reported By:** Poppy Pomfrey

**For the Attention of**: Minerva McGonagall, Horace Slughorn, Albus Dumbledore, Auror's Office (?)

**Date:** May 3rd, 1984

**Time:** Arrived at 13:04, incident happened circa 10 minutes prior.

**Students Involved:** Nymphadora Tonks (Hufflepuff, first year), Regulus Black (Slytherin, sixth year),

**Site of Incident:** Prefect's Bathroom, Fifth Floor.

**Nature of Incident:** Misuse of time turner led to serious injury.

**Notes:** At approximately 13:00 hours, Nympahdora Tonks alerted me to the fact that there was an incident in the fifth floor prefect's bathroom and that urgent medical attention was needed. The first year, being sheepish, gave little more information but babbled the same information repetitively. I later treated her for shock.

Upon reaching the first floor it became immediately apparent that there had been a duel of sorts as debris of broken sinks and mirrors were covering the floor in rubble, meanwhile a layer of dust settled over the room, after being disturbed from such intense action. Seeing two bodies on the floor, one of a recognisable sixth year from Slytherin house (later identified as Regulus Black) and another of an unknown male, I rushed into the room. The male was much older, but both were bleeding profusely. I first inspected Regulus, with Nymphadora standing behind me, watching aghast. He had several contusions to the lower mandible and it appeared as though he had been punched and knocked out. I used the spell, "Rennervate" to awake him. He woke up very quickly, shocked and asking for his wand to, "…finish him off…", speaking about the other man. I refused him his wand, and asked him to wait outside. Angrily, he pushed little Nymphadora out of the way and left the room.

I moved my attention to the other man in the room, obviously no match for Regulus or not wanting to harm him. Wondering who he was, I checked him over and saw several deep contusions across his chest. It was dark magic, used by Regulus to harm the gentleman. I used a healing spell to cause the skin's reproduction to increase in mitosis speed which stopped the wounds from bleeding but left scars in the place of the cuts. The man was very pale, so I conjured a stretcher in order to transport him to the hospital wing for further treatment. I pocketed Regulus' wand to ensure he would not get it and requested that he follow me to the hospital wing, along with Nymphadora. He did so, after many rude gestures. However, as the injured man was unrecognisable, it was at this point that I informed Argus Filch, whom I met upon the way, of a possible security breach, knowing that the patient was now in a stable condition. Asking Regulus if he knew the man, he shook his head, saying that he had chased him through the castle, talking about the dark arts and You Know Who. Something about what he was saying seemed unlikely, considering it was he that had used dark magic.

In the hospital wing, I verbally wrestled Mr Black into a bed and pulled some screens around him, in order to give him some time to calm down. Mrs Tonks sat very quietly in the corner of the room, looking extremely pale. I levitated the intruder onto an empty bed and conjured a length of rope, which I used to tie his wrists to the bedstead. Pulling the screens around the bed, I began to undress him from the waist up and poured on essence of dittany over the newly formed scars. Upon reaching his neck, I noticed that he wore a long chain around it as a necklace. I decided to remove it, as it may interfere with treatment and, in doing so, I noticed that hanging from the chain was an extremely rare time-turner – an item which I had, until that point, only read about.

Suggesting that this man was from the future, I pondered why he may have chosen to return to this time, and why it was important that he be at Hogwarts. As I bandaged his chest, I noticed a striking resemblance to Sirius Black, Regulus' older brother who graduated last year. I pondered upon whether it may have been another brother, or Sirius himself, returning from the future. That would also explain why he wished to communicate with Regulus. Despite these realisations, his motive remains unclear yet, to get a time turner is difficult, and only allowed in vital situations. It must have be important.

Both students have been given calming draughts and will explain what they have seen to their respective heads of houses and have been sent to their offices.

**Suggested Actions:**

To Professor Slughorn – I suggest you speak with Regulus about the implications of using dark magic.

To Professor McGonagall – I suggest you speak with Nymphadora about what first years are truly capable of.

**Additional Details:**

The man, who has just awoken, claimed to be Regulus Black. I went to alert the headmaster, yet upon my return, the hospital wing was vacant. The authorities have been alerted.

**Signed**

Poppy Pomfrey 3/5/84


	5. Dudley Dursley and the Dynamite

**Dudley Dursley – Platform 9 and ¾ - Explosion – HLotD**

"Dudley! What the hell did you do?"  
>Dudley grinned stupidly. His eyes were unfocussed. King's Cross Station lay in ruins around him – all but for one barrier. The one which once stood between platforms nine and ten. "Harry! I've been looking for you!"<br>"Right…" Harry stared at the carnage surrounding his cousin. "Dudley did you blow up King's Cross Station?"  
>"Well," Dudley sat up, bits of building slipping from his broad chest. "I knew which barrier it was, from that time that Dad was laughing and left you behind here, but when I tried to run through I just knocked myself out. So then I asked the ambulance man that was looking at me and he just laughed…"<br>"Okay… I er, still don't understand how it is that you blew up King's Cross Station though..?"  
>"Oh yeah!" Dudley gave another grin. "Well I figured then I'd have to loosen up the barrier. So I got some dynamite from dad-"<br>"Wha- why does Uncle Vernon have dynamite?"  
>Dudley shrugged. "Yeah so then I used it to blow up the barrier. Only…" he looked around himself in confusion. "Oh. Maybe I used too much…"<br>Harry sighed. "Don't worry Dudley… Obliviate."


	6. Rita Skeeter and the Sonnet of Love

**Rita Skeeter – Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions – Love – Androidxs**

True beauty and wonder are what you are,

Sewing seams and measuring lengths of cloth.

I see you in the robe shop from afar,

And wonder of what goddess you are of.

But it is with this love and beauty true,

That I must wonder why you waste your time,

On customers and people rude to you.

As all agree your beauty is too fine.

You make witches robes and clothes aplenty,

But you never notice my affection,

Even though we speak more than frequently,

And I spend hours browsing your selection.

So Madame Malkin, I proclaim to thee,

A love from Reeter Skeeter, plentily.


	7. Wendelin the Weird and her Last Day

Wendelin the Weird sat in a cell in Azkaban. Alone.

"Oh," She lamented, "How has it come to this?" Tears streamed down her face, which was now covered in dirt. Her long, matted grey hair was threadlike with grease while her face was crinkled and appeared to have aged at least ten years in the past six months. Of course, she was 172, but no matter. Wendelin valued her looks. Or at least she did.

Heaving herself up, Wendelin groaned, feeling a complete lack of energy. "Damn Dementors!" She yelled, wailing to the walls and the un-listening ears of the other prisoners. Here, nobody cared. Hours were filled with incessant wailing of other prisoners, driven mad by their loneliness, driven mad by their thoughts, driven mad by their guilt. A hooded cloaked figure drifted by the cell. As it went, darkness emanated from below it's hood and a rush of cold air followed it. Wendelin shivered, rubbing her arms, trying to comfort herself. Hier breath rose as a mist in front of her face and her black eyes widened in terror. Echoes of his past haunted her, ghosts of memories filling her mind. The day it all went wrong engraved into the back of her eyes replayed before her.

"It's magic!" Yelled a leather clad villager, waving his pitchfork at Wendelin, who had just transfigured a slug into a snake. At these words, many of the village's men seemed to be summoned. Being muggles, their understanding was limited and they attempted to grab at Wendelin, brandishing torches of fire and old farm tools towards him. Had he wanted to, Wendelin could have apparated within an instant to a safe place. The only people muggles actually caught doing "magic" were their fellow muggles. It was easy enough for wizards and witches to escape, not to mention there were no problems even if they were. The wooden houses of the villages stared emptily, their windows as eyes, staring into the family inside as women and children looked out, condemning Wendelin.

Wendelin was happy. It was the 47th time she was to be burned at the stake in different villages, wearing numerous disguises and she couldn't wait for the fun to begin! Approaching a pile of wood, surrounded by various kindling, she was tied with knots to the large pole within the centre. The binding was tight. Tighter than it had been before. No matter, she said to herself, trying to wriggle her wand free from her belt. The village mayor used his torch to set the wood alight. It sparked into light. Time to shine, thought Wendelin, still attempting to get her wand. It was stuck. Don't panic, she thought as the flames crept closer, her fingers still scrabbling at her belt where her wand was stashed. Now feeling the intensity of the roaring flames, she tried moving with her whole body. She needed her wand. The jeering faces of the crowd yelled as, for the first time ever, Wendelin screamed in the agony of being burnt alive. Continuing to scream, something strange had happened. She became light headed. The clouds above darkened into grey and the men stopped jeering.

"Magic!" One of them yelled.

"Burn that witch faster!" Called another in attempting to stop the weather from behaving so. The clouds, now blocking all clear light from the village, started to cry tears. They dropped down, slowly at first but soon as heavy as a tempest at sea. Extinguishing the flames, Wendelin stopped panicking, glad to be a true witch where wands were not always needed and some magic was still unexplainable. The men looked at her and her relief. One began to run with his pitchfork aiming straight for her heart. She closed her eyes, unable to escape and willing to accept her fate. Boom. A force she had never felt before emanated from her body, her limbs glowed white hot, heat and energy exploding out of them, destroying everything and everyone in her way. The bindings broke and Wendelin levitated several feet from the ground, her skin still illuminated by whatever force controlled her. She felt empty. She crumpled. Doubled over on the floor, her skin became normal colour and she panted, trying to regain her breath. Her head was spinning. Her muscles ached. And everything was becoming cold. Is this death? She thought to herself, trying to crawl through the muddy crater which she had created. She needed to think and gather her thoughts, apparate as far as away as possible. But she couldn't think – she was sure she could see a giant squid, everytime she closed her eyes. Closing her eyes and trying to focus on it, she wondered why this remnant from her days at Hogwarts was making its presence in her mind. It's eyes glowed red, almost hypnotically. Starting to shiver, she stopped thinking and clutched herself. Strange, scaly fingers wrapped themselves around her neck from behind and she was dragged to Azkaban. Without trial.


End file.
